the robot bodies club

slimiest:

a CEO walks into his office “any messages?” he asks his assistant
“two anons want to know who tom petty is and one just says ‘post your ballsack’”
“got it. check my dashboard”
“that skeleton gif you like is back again”
he rubs his chin pensively “mm. reblog that”

(Source: heathergraves)

(Source: all-things-fcked3)

This kid holds a terrible knowledge. 

(Source: benfoldsone)

Bad books on writing tell you to ‘WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW’, a solemn and totally false adage that is the reason there exist so many mediocre novels about English professors contemplating adultery.

Joe Haldeman (via maxkirin)

reverseracist:

my favorite white

What a dated joke. Havent heard this since Cher was relevant.

(Source: preteenager)

iamnotdoingshittoday:

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?

(Source: reddit.com)

cassimuffin:

FORESHADOWING

The Cars and last Up ones are very long stretches.

(Source: cracked.com)

Anonymous asked: wizardchan only could have gotten your phone number if you put it out in to th e internet yourself. you have no right to act dramatic and upset when some one finds it and uses it however they want. what did you expect

patrickklepek:

ohdeargodbees:

I feel like the timing on this is too good for me to not actually address this. I’ve seen this thrown around a few times in various incarnations - either it’s my fault someone decided to find my info and use it to be gross because I put it out there in the first place, or there’s no way anyone could’ve found my number and I must be making it up.

Yes, I did put my phone number out there on the internet. Publicly. On twitter and in a few spreadsheets on google docs. 

I did this almost exactly one year ago, during the Boston Marathon bombings. 

Having lived in NY during 9/11 was shitty. I was a freshman in highschool. I remember feeling powerless to help or do anything more than trying to contact all my family in the area to see if they were ok. Most of them eventually got back to me. One of them never did. Panic gave way to kind of this dumb numbness while I felt like I had to just watch everything unfold, depersonalized, on TV. 

When it started to happen years later while I lived in Boston, I freaked out in a different way. I didn’t want to sit there powerlessly staring at news reports and sending text messages. So I took action - I jumped on twitter and started trying to organize people to go donate blood, to signal boost news (like when I heard a bomb might be down the street from my apartment), and to try and coordinate relief efforts. I put my number and information out there, very publicly, to try and shelter people who were displaced by the bombing and had nowhere to go. I was flailing and trying to help in some way instead of just feeling totally powerless again.

I wasn’t thinking that at the time, someone would have such a massive problem with a woman making a game about depression and would try to use that to scare or intimidate me. Even if I had briefly considered that some creep would get it, I didn’t care. I had more important things to worry about right then.

So yeah, it was reckless. I’m not sorry I did it though, and fuck the narrative of “if you ever make yourself available in any way, you’re responsible for people abusing that”. I am not going to live my life in fear of what unseen people might do with my information. I’m certainly not going to do it in a way that stops me from trying to help people, or from being who I am. *They’re* the ones fucking up by taking vulnerability and using it against someone. 

So fuck it.

I hear this line all the time. “You decided to put yourself out there, so it’s your fault people are acting crappy.” That’s the same sort of victim blaming that underscores “having a thicker skin” or saying “that’s just how the Internet is.” That’s a great way to blame everyone but the harasser.

dumbmovieblog:

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

frankhowley:

30,000-year-old cave painting found in South Africa.

this was part of a 100 comment RP that broke out on a video for a song from the new muppets movie. i don’t even know how it got started.

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